He's Too Quiet
by achildofthestars
Summary: Oneshot. It's Cam's last day, and she's reflecting over the past few hours of traumas and loss, while getting a foot massage by someone unexpected.


She rests her feet on the ER examining table, her last shift nearly over as the sun is just minutes from birthing dawn. They've left her here since the action of a 26 hour period has died down, a meaningful omen if there ever was one, of how the day would end. Her eyes close and she finally takes a breath.

Thirteen lives, all in the small space of eight hours have taken their last breaths under her care, one of them in this very room. It's an average number she's become accustomed to, but today is different. She'll never understand it; the horrors people cause one another. Why should one man be able to gun down fifteen innocent bystanders just because he can?

Her hands begin to tingle, a slight sensation that barely gives her hesitation because of the massive traumas she's handled, along with the other doctors. She'd never intended it to end like this. The day beginning with a cutting of a cake, the getting of gifts, the tears of saying good-bye, and then ending with blood tracking down the hallways of so many lives she'd never save.

It's difficult to get her bearings now. The clamoring has died down significantly since last night, filled only with hollow thuds and ramblings from loud patients followed by hard footsteps. In her mind, the noise should be deafening, crowding out any other sensation, letting her not feel the pain. But it's so much calmer, and the pain is slowly creeping its way back after the storm.

Exhaling, she wonders why nothing ever seems to change. She's gone through all this, and nothing's different for her. She'd resigned from House only to come back to the ER and deal with him all over again. She's been proven wrong and wrong again by him, and here she is, proven wrong by her own self. She's always been too close to the patient and now she's paying for it in the worst possible way. She's always thought humans are underestimated, which has been proven to her today; it's also been mocked.

_Luke Marter_. The name makes her mouth tighten. Hatred would be a strong word for what she feels. She's not sure if she's ever felt hate; she's always thought herself beyond the emotion. He'd had his reasons to shoot up the grocery store, or so he had told her as she came to tell him the police had come to arrest him. If only she'd stayed to listen.

The responsibility of being a senior attending had never bothered her until today. There were three others with her, and they had always maintained a type of hierarchy. She was the middle one, of course. She'd been the only one on duty when the bodies were rushed to the ER. There was never hesitation as she'd held down the fort, saving one and then the other as best she could, the other attendings ordering residents who had finally stepped up when it was most needed.

She has all her belongings in one cardboard box beside her chair. It's not much; it's pretty much her life. One of the things she'd thought she'd feel is regret. Pulling her things out of the locker, she had felt no such thing. She hadn't felt much of anything to be honest. Well, that's a lie. She'd felt tired. She'd felt...drained. For the first time since her husband had died, she feels drained.

The news of the shooting had left her stunned at the base of humanity. It didn't surprise her, surprisingly. My, how her life has changed from four years ago. They'd come in, one after another. Some were flesh wounds and grazes, easily handled by someone else. Other's were bone shattering, liver tearing, intestinal splintering, wounds, and she'd seen at least five of those die in front of her. Two had been children, shot in the neck and the other had had the bullet ricochet off his spine causing paralysis and knicking his heart.

In fact, 13 had been in the hospital, observing House's patient when she'd meandered her way down to help. The girl is very competent, Cameron has to allow. She's young. She's pretty. She's mysterious. Everything her old boss loves. To her, it's a load of bull. The girl keeps quiet not because she's private, it's more because she likes that people know she's mysterious. She's lived her life being the odd one out on purpose, to make a statement, to show how cold she is, to show she's not just another person in this world. Cameron thinks the girl should get over it.

Where she's going after this, she's not quite sure. All she knows is that it's time for a break from all this. _Just a short one_, she thinks dejectedly. She'd like to go somewhere warmer, sunnier, brighter, maybe Florida for a month. Maybe for forever. New Jersey's getting too comfortable, too homey, too memory filled. Whether Chase will follow she doesn't know. She'll understand if he wants to stay because he wants to be around House just as much as she does. She almost wants him to stay since she's not sure who she's become over the past year. Most of her wants him to come, and while it may not be love, it's certainly something close to it she hasn't felt in a long while.

In the midst of the chaos, she'd held the hand of one old man who'd gone to the store for some sugar cookies for his daughter's party he'd forgotten about. He'd been torn with fear because if he died, no one would be left to care the little girl he loved so much. He'd also been riddled with guilt because he hadn't got the cookies she'd pleaded for, and would spoil the party. There'd been so much blood on the floor, on her smock. The OR was being prepped, and she nearly prayed that Chase would hurry up to save two lives instead of one. _He couldn't_.

She'd lost her father long ago. It's why she became a doctor. Most assume it's because of her husband; she doesn't have to correct them. The memories of her father are shadowy, probably filled more with fiction than fact. He'd had a stroke one afternoon when everyone was out at a family eating. When they found him and rushed him to the hospital, there was nothing they could do. She's pretty familiar with that feeling by now.

Suddenly realizing where her thoughts have traveled, she fights the urge to shake her head. Her thoughts always have a mind of their own.

Hands cover her shoulders, gently massaging the taut muscles. She doesn't bother to open her eyes, instead she lets him try to loosen the kinks, knowing they may never be the same. They travel down her upper arms, delicately and forcefully. She fights a shiver because she's not sure his touch has ever electrified her so much. Soon, his hands are over her head, his fingers tentatively testing various spots, relieving tension she didn't know she had.

"God, that feels great," she whispers into the sanitized air.

She isn't surprised that he doesn't answer. He's had a hard few days as well.

"You know, my feet have been especially put to the test today", she says with a hint of a smile.

The motion of fingers pressed to her head stops and she hears the soft rustle of clothes as he manages the two steps where her feet rest on the table. She wonders why he's taking so long to untie her shoes, and is about to open her eyes when he finally takes them off.

His hands are like...magic. _Such a wonderful cliché to end the day_, she thinks. His hands, usually tender, are harsh. They demand her feet, test every muscle, leaving her almost writhing in pleasure. She wishes he was like this more often.

Without having to think about it, the thought forms on its own, like all her thoughts have formed today. "I'm ready to stop doing this."

His hands momentarily halt in their pleasure inducing touches before gaining momentum again.

"I'm done doing good. I'm finally done." She pauses. "I love you."

For the first time he speaks. "Who doesn't?"

* * *

**A/N: So, I should be updating It's not so, but I'm thinking about a few things so I can't. Instead, this popped up and it's probably not very good, but I like it. So...review please. Tell me what you liked, didn't like. LOL, if you're reading this and think you should be reading the next chap for INS, go ahead and tell me. **

**So, in my head, here's what happened. She gave her two weeks notice, never cleaning out her things until now because some part of her thought she would change her mind. She thought she'd rescue a life in dire need of saving and it would just change everything, and so this gunman incident was really a make or break experience for her. And it broke her, so she was very sure that she was indeed going to leave. **


End file.
